Prelude to a New Generation
by hoenheim-of-light51
Summary: This was a little countdown fic I wrote for the Black and White release. On her last day of school, new Pokemon trainer Cicero finds herself already embroiled in her first battle.
1. Chapter 1

I bolted out the door and didn't look back. The spring air, still mildly chilled, stung as it moved in and out of my lungs. I could hear the rest of the school laughing and chatting behind me, their voices growing quieter as I ran.

"Oy, Cicero!" one of my friends called out.

Though I heard my name, I didn't stop; only slowed. I turned, smiling, my ponytail whipping lightly against my cheek; I couldn't quite pick their face out of the shrinking crowd. "What!"

"We're going to the restaurant in Striaton to celebrate! Aren't you coming?"

"I've gotta run by home first! I'll meet you there!"

"Alright!" By the time our exchange was finished, they were all barely visible, and their words only faintly reached my ears.

I turned my eyes back to the path ahead, bounding down the dirt road fast enough to raise thin clouds of dust before my eyes. Tall trees ran along beside me, and I could glimpse the blurry shapes of wild pokemon skittering about the tall grass surrounding the pathways. Any other day, I might've stopped to observe them, but I barely heard their playful cries as I bolted towards my home in Nuvema Town.

To say that I couldn't get out of school fast enough would make it sound as though I disliked the place which, despite the general attitude, is far from the truth. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that over half of my life was spent either studying in its library or mock-battling in its courtyard or wandering its halls. Every day, I'd arrived early and stayed late, simply to talk to the retired trainers and researchers that made up its staff; teachers I'd never even had knew me by name. I didn't have an extremely large amount of friends, but I was close with the ones I had, and they all shared, for the most part, my same passion for pokemon to such a degree that we'd spend whole days together just talking about, studying, and battling with them. In many ways, it was a second home for me, and it was deeply saddening to think that I wouldn't see many of them for years, if ever again; I'd left earlier than ever before, in fact, not long after dawn this morning, just so that I'd be able to go to each of my teachers and find every one of my friends and tell them as much.

That didn't mean, though, that I wasn't overjoyed to finally be finished with it. Today marked the last day of my last year of Trainer School, and I was ready for it all to end; had been waiting for as long as I could remember to cast off the educational system at last. Some would go on to continue their studies—aspiring to be professors, scholars, researchers, and the like—and I would, too, I suppose, though I would be doing so far from a classroom.

I would finally become a Pokémon Trainer! I'd learned the history and the moves and I'd memorized the names and information; I'd gazed at and taken notes on wild pokemon from afar and organized countless mock teams in my notebooks. I was ready to move out of books and speculation and into the real world, and it would finally begin today.

Well, I suppose the actual start of my journey through "the world of pokemon" would have to wait until after the graduation ceremony, but I still considered this to be the true beginning, as I would be thinking about and preparing for nothing else for the next few days preceding the ceremony. In fact, if it were up to me, I'd leave tomorrow and just take the rest of the day to finish the preparations, but my parents wouldn't have me missing graduation. I was their only daughter and it would mean the world to them to see me walk up and collect my diploma and blah, blah, blah. Though they, too, seemed to have every intention of dropping everything along with me and helping finish everything that needed to be finished before the coming day.

In fact, they were nearly as excited as I was. They'd spoken about nothing but for the last few weeks, and made sure to pound into my brain the importance of coming straight home after the last day of school, before going anywhere else. They wouldn't tell me why, and I wasn't really sure what I was expecting. Despite our shared excitement, I knew they wouldn't let me leave just yet, but I suppose I didn't really feel the need to wonder at it too hard. I was filled with far too much raw excitement and anticipation to question it, and the two of them were…interesting, anyway. They could want me home for something as mundane as a picture or as shocking as a fully-catered and well-attended party. In truth, neither would surprise me.

Expecting one or both of those outcomes, I leapt over the invisible border between Route 1 and Nuvema, zooming past Professor Juniper's lab and the other houses until I stood at my own front door, our large house towering over me. Without pausing I pushed on the red-painted slab of wood and entered the house. My chest was burning and my thigh hurt where my bag had slapped it continuously all the way here, but I couldn't care.

"Hey guys! I'm hooome!" I shouted, breathlessly.

Silence.

I paused awkwardly, caught genuinely off guard by the lack of response and lack of my parents' presence right when I entered. Panting, I shut the door behind me and looked around, feeling the adrenaline flooding out of me as the heat flooded over my sweat-slicked, goose-bumped skin. Everything around me was normal, untouched, and I stayed there for a moment, waiting for a voice or a sound; for anything to happen, really. But nothing broke the silence.

Slipping my bag off my shoulder and onto a decorative table next to me, I glanced about the large front room, towards the stairway on the right and the large open space to my left. Both looked untouched and held no signs of any kind of 'bread crumbs' that might lead to the surprise I knew must be waiting for me, whatever that may be.

"Hello!" I called, grinning and wiping at my forehead as I moved towards the kitchen. The loudest sound was my heart still slamming against my ribs, drowning out even the noisy _clunk_ of my boots on the hardwood floors. It was almost eerie, strangely enough, as I couldn't remember this place ever being this quiet; not so much so that I could actually hear any given noise echoing throughout the house. They were really outdoing themselves, I thought. My hopes for something fantastic and over the top rose ever so slightly.

By the time I reached the kitchen, my breath and pulse had slowed enough to stop permeating the surrounding air so fiercely, leaving a heavy peace in its wake. As had been the case with the front room, it was empty and quiet.

In fact, I realized now without the noise of my own blood rushing swiftly in my veins, a tad too quiet and empty. With clearing senses, I became aware of an inescapable…nothing. I couldn't feel the restless, anticipatory motion of the air that would follow the presence of a room full of guests; couldn't feel that same inescapable feeling adding lightness to the heavy wall of silence pushing against my ears. I felt just like I did when Mom left her post of 'total caregiver' when Dad was at work and went to visit Professor Juniper, or shop, or some mixture of the two: utterly alone in a large, empty house.

Grin slowly fading, I stood in the kitchen doorway and scanned the surroundings. It looked just like it had this morning, but in more ways than it should have. Dad's coffee cup sat next to his paper on the table, still opened to the same page of comics I'd chided him about reading before I left for school. Upon approaching it, I saw that it was still half full. Not far from it was Mom's, very much in the same state, and a quick glance to the sink revealed it to be full of once-soapy water; it was now as cold as the coffee and, without the pillows of cleansing foam riding its surface, I could see the breakfast dishes at the bottom of the small, cloudy pool. The only two things that didn't look like a snapshot of a single, perfect moment were the chairs, pushed back at haphazard distances away from the table, and, on the floor not far from the sink, Mom's favorite and only apron lay in a careless, crumpled heap.

It looked like the front of an Oshawott, the shell made into a little pouch meant to carry who-knows-what, and she'd fallen in love with it; handmade by the finest craftsmen in Unova; bought in a little shop I couldn't remember the name of that we happened across while on vacation. At that moment, I remembered with fierce clarity the amount of care she always took, no matter what, to hang the thing back up on a coat rack at the end of the counter.

"Mom?" I called out, looking up, and even my voice sounded off. I, too, had become infected with the strange, palpable _wrongness_ of the place, and I could feel it. "Dad?"

The resounding quiet was resolute and cold.

Without thinking, I ran from the kitchen into the living room. I bit back the urge to call out upon finding nothing and moved through the family room and all the hallways, throwing open bathroom and closet doors and probing the darkness of the basement—it, too, seemed frozen in that state of perfection that made my gut churn with unease. By the time I flew up the stairs, I could feel the light tremors in my muscles, and upon finding more empty, pristine rooms, I experienced genuine panic.

The lack of visible remains of violence was comforting in a way; I could imagine that they hadn't been injured, at least—I made myself do so, in fact. But my inability to find anything new or out of the ordinary meant I had no clues, no leads to go on, and that left me alone and hopeless in the wake of everything. It appeared as though they had just…vanished; disappeared in the middle of the morning routine for reasons I didn't know and could only faintly guess at.

Shaking, I returned to the kitchen; the one place that held any kind of abnormality. My mind was racing now. Either something terrible had happened and they'd had to leave, or they'd been taken. The second option sounded only a little ridiculous. We had a fairly large amount of money, and my father was a well known author; a profession with few enemies insane enough for abduction, but it wasn't impossible that they existed. Just as well, there were plenty of insane _non_-writers out there who could've wanted any number of things from my father: money, a reputation—'the man who held one of the world's most prominent writers hostage!'—or even just…him in general; a crazed fan, too, was not an impossibility.

But…why my mother? I couldn't help wonder when I saw the apron again.

Well, for leverage, of course, I realized dully in the next second. I knew as well as they did that they could get anything out of my father if they threatened my mother. Anything and everything he owned would he willingly give away if my mother was being used as a bargaining chip. Without question.

In a daze, I picked up the apron. The strings on the back tumbled from the mass and brushed the ground. Dad probably stopped her before she could put it on, saying he would do the dishes, and she had been moving to put it back on the rack when…

I gripped the fabric of the apron hard enough with my shaking hand to wonder dully if my nails would actually rip through it.

Suddenly, a loud clattering echoed in the empty air. I nearly leapt up and actually did hear a small, uncharacteristic squeak pass my lips. Flushing, I looked around wildly, pulse racing as I searched for the cause of the racket, until I froze at the distinct feeling of something bumping against the tip of my boot.

I looked down to find a pokeball, shrunken for easy carrying, resting on my sole. I picked up the little red and white sphere and turned it around in my palm. One of Mom's…? But why would she have it with her while doing dishes? I turned it over again, narrowing eyes scrutinizing it, and when I reached the back for a second time, I noticed something strange about what I'd thought to be a simple scuff at first: There was a definite shape to it, I saw now; certain and purposeful lines. I pressed the center button and watched the pokeball expand in my hand.

As I thought, the back bore a symbol. It was all black; a silhouette of what looked like a Serperior eating its own tail. The center of the circle was filled with a series of shapes. They looked like triangles and squares and nonsensical pointed creations that, if I adjusted my eyes, contained within their seemingly random positions the letter "K", which disappeared and reappeared depending on how I looked at it.

I stood there for a moment, barely feeling the apron fall from my other hand and hardly realizing my thought that Mom wouldn't like it to be on the floor, but my focus remained on the symbol. This was my lead, the only evidence of anything foreign I'd found in the house. I gripped the pokeball tight, clicking the button again and feeling my fist clench to a white-knuckled grip as it closed around the shrinking object. I could feel rage, in the face of something it could cling to, rushing over me like water down a crag, washing over dry, painful fear, though I knew I was still shaking.

The police, I thought. There was a station back in Accumula. With this, they'd at least have something to go on.

I bolted for the door, slipping the little pokeball into a small pocket on the inside of my vest. My muscles still retained lingering weight and soreness from my run home and about the house, but I was barely aware of it. I slammed the door open so forcefully that it hurt—

And was immediately met with a smack in the mouth.

"Ahhph!" I screamed in muted pain against the weight slamming my lips against my teeth, cloth tickling my cheeks.

Two gray-white figures splashed with blue and gold suddenly loomed up before me, and I could feel pressure on my back and my arms. Screaming muffled nonsense, I thrashed against it, glaring at their shadowed faces, but the many grips were like crushing vices, and everything I saw was bleeding together into a writhing fog. My world was quickly becoming the strong scent of detergent as it filled my nostrils and made my head feel light and my muscles like liquid. Then, even that ceased to be concrete, and as the haze darkened, everything faded until I was suspended in growing numbness.

There was the distant sensation that I was falling. Then nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

I'll never know how long it was before I crawled back into reality, but it was a slow and painful climb. There was no question in my mind of what happened; I knew it instantly, with all the clarity with which you know a dream you've just awakened from. The first thing that came back after that memory was pain in my head and shoulders, sharp and pounding as though it had only recently begun to afflict me. I saw the brightness of…wherever I was as a whiteout behind my eyelids, and I groaned as I turned my head away from it. Through this, I realized I'd been looking up, as my head immediately rolled down and my chin pressed against my collarbone. The darkness there was a slight relief, and I opened my eyes.

At first, my vision swam a little, but as I looked, my legs slowly came into focus. I saw a patch of red where my bag had slapped continuously against bare skin, but otherwise I was intact. At the top of my vision was a table, I could tell, and looking up, a dull pain shooting through my head, I saw a glass of water upon it. Upon seeing it, I became hyper-aware of a strange taste in my mouth—lingering detergent smell that had morphed at the back of my throat. I swallowed instinctively.

And yet, as I thought that it would be a wonderful relief, I knew I could hardly be that lucky. Frowning, I tried to move my arms—and felt a pang in my shoulders as my wrists stayed locked together.

"Cruel bastards," I spat. I lifted my head and looked around, slowly.

There was nothing on the walls, which were painted just a shade darker than the color my abductors had been wearing. The lights above me were kept in clouded boxes—the only breaks in the constant dull gray— and their light diffused into a homogenous haze that filled the room completely, leaving no shadows but those cast by myself and the table. Turning to look behind me was difficult and mildly painful, but I was able to glimpse a door that was roughly the same shade. I assumed there must have been a camera somewhere—no way they'd leave their prize alone—but I couldn't see it from where I sat. For curiosity's sake, and maybe just to make sure my legs were in working order, I stood up.

It wasn't difficult to do, but I still staggered a little when I finally reached my feet, my calves bumping against the chair. I was briefly dizzy and my shoulders were beginning to bother me, but one passed and I ignored the other.

Beginning to pace around the room, I eyed each inch and corner carefully, looking for any imperfection in the otherwise smooth walls. In fact, it was actually unnerving how smooth they were. There weren't any signs of brick lines or even paint texture, almost like they'd sanded it down to featureless matte that was utterly uniform in the suffused light.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Someone better come in here and tell me what the hell you want with my family, or I'll come out there and ask you myself!" My voice hit the walls and died.

Nothing was said in response, and my movement had at last taken me to the door. It was flat as the walls, free of even a tiny square window to see into whatever lay outside. Everything in here was completely cutoff from everything out there.

Everything.

A sudden chill ran through me, then, as that single word resonated in my thoughts. Wherever I was, I was completely isolated, being watched by people I couldn't see with cameras I couldn't see in a place whose location I didn't know; a place that was surely filled with rooms like these and crawling with men as cold and efficient as those who'd taken my parents. And I was alone with my hands cuffed and my head still aching, with no way to escape or even fight back should someone threaten me now.

Silence weighed on me like gravity given physical presence; I could feel it in my ears and see it wriggling across the walls. My palms started to sweat and I was trembling, goose bumps hard on my skin.

I turned from the door, pressing my back against it, and the smallness of the room, too, suddenly struck me. Everything was too close together. The walls pressed inward on the lonely table and chair, and me: little more than a mouse they'd given a bed and a half-empty water bottle. My breath started coming in odd intervals, and I could feel my pulse increasing.

Were my parents in a room like this?

Thinking of them, I could feel a tiny ball of anger, like a dull heat in the center of my chest, pounding beneath my fear. I tried to cling to that and swallow down the panic that tried to stop me from shouting, "_Hey!" _though it caught in my throat and emerged with a strange catch.

I gulped, focusing on rage as I glared up, turning my head in the hopes that I'd meet the eyes of whoever was observing me. "Hey! I know you're listening! Come in here and tell me what's going on, or I swear I'll—"

A loud buzz cut me off. My heart leapt into my mouth and back down again.

"Quiet down, please, Miss Delmar, and step away from the door."

Surprise still tingled in my muscles and I shifted my gaze all about the room, looking for the source of the voice. It had been like the light: evenly filling the whole room with no apparent point of origin.

"Step away from the door," the voice—of a man, I noted—repeated, calmly but with clear authority. "I'm prepared to use force, if I must, to bring about compliance."

I flushed with anger, despising the voice even as I recognized the promise fueling the threat. I straightened up and walked towards the table, but I refused to sit down.

A chuckle came from the intercom. "So needlessly stubborn."

"Tell me who you are," I demanded, ordering my voice to be steady, "and what you want with us. Now."

A pause. "A great deal, my dear, you should be able to figure out for yourself. And in any case, I hardly think someone in your position is qualified to be making demands. You are merely an insurance policy, and I simply came to tell you to calm down, before you get on the guards' nerves." I could hear him grinning, and it made my stomach turn.

"'Insurance policy?' What, my mother wasn't enough to get my father to let you drain him dry?"

"Oh, no. We didn't even mention her and he was already promising us staggering sums if only we wouldn't harm her. It was quite touching to watch, actually. You see, I thought it prudent to ensure he stayed just as cooperative. Time can often turn the weak fools into noble ones, and I couldn't have him, or Mrs. Delmar, for that matter, getting any rebellious ideas. We've been promised a great amount, and there's a lot of yellow tape we'll have to go through to get it, and you're here to ensure that they don't try anything along down the line to get out of our bargain."

"I find that hard to believe," I said, staring angrily around the room. "In fact, I don't believe it."

"Oh?" He sounded amused.

"I think you never knew about me at all before today, and once you found out, you had to stop me from going to the authorities. I'm just a loose end in this whole scheme of yours that you had to tie up."

At that, he laughed; a rich, piercing sound that seemed to fill the whole of the universe around me. It made me shudder.

"How funny that you think there's something we don't _know_ about you and your family," he chortled, and I forced myself not to think of all that had gone into the confidence he held in that statement. "But I suppose you're partially right about being somewhat of a loose end. Originally, I'd planned on grabbing all of you at the same time, but due to you breaking routine, I only _just_ missed you. However, the plan has still been completed. We've successfully removed all available help on the outside, while keeping all possible variables in. All that's left is the matter of payment."

"And what's this payment going to do for you! Why do you need my family's money?"

"Now, now, Cicero. I've said you should be able to figure it out by yourself, so I'm going to leave all that to you. Now, do sit down. You're going to be here for a while. I suggest you get comfortable."

I could hear the finality in his statement; envision him moving to silence the hiss of static filling the room. Desperation gripped me.

"Wait!" I blurted. And though I heard him say nothing, I knew he was still listening. "Just…let me hear their voices. Let me know that they're okay!"

He chuckled. "At the moment, they're just fine. We still need them to complete the process for us, don't we?"

Both of us knew what I was wondering, as cold drops of sweat blossomed on my trembling skin. "And after that?"

A few moments of the dull, droning whisper of the intercom.

"I'll leave all that," his voice rumbled through the speaker, "to you."

_Click_.

I felt the sound like a blow to my gut and actually staggered back, my eyes rolling up to the ceiling. There, the lamp-boxes quivered in their stagnant gray prison, and I watched them, nonplussed into numbness.

In truth, I wasn't surprised. After all, no matter how confident the man was that he and his group would never be discovered, it would be stupid to take that chance. It was only logical that he dispose of the evidence once he was through. In fact, it only surprised me that he refused to tell me anything about the actual group in whose HQ I was being held. If he _truly_ was going to…dispose of the evidence, why would it matter if I knew anything? He'd said multiple times that I could figure a great deal out, but all of it was guesses that I'd need some kind of confirmation for; mostly, their objective in this whole thing.

World domination? Even in this state, that sounded idiotic, but for all I knew, I was right. And _all_ _I knew_ was that they needed money, which failed to narrow it down at all. Would he have told my parents everything, or were they in the same condition as I was: confused, angry, and more than a little frightened?

My head was whirling as I pondered, trying to piece together an entire plan based on a voice and a room. Dizzy, I wanted to slide into the cold metal chair. I missed and hit the ground, flushing stupidly in midair.

Pain shot from my tailbone to my neck, and I winced as it joined the throbbing in my shoulders. I remained where I was, however, as both sitting down and the new aching seemed to clear my head somewhat. I leaned back and continued to look at the lights, my flimsy vest sliding down about my wrists.

I almost wondered if I'd see any other lights besides these again, but I couldn't bring myself to; it was a far too depressing and far too pathetic thought, even now, to let pass through my perception. Or perhaps, in truth, it was simply the least possible of my worries. It was much easier—strange as it sounded—for me to wonder the same thing about Mom and Dad, though, as an answer in the negative could almost be a given if I chose to accept it. In fact, it'd be the perfect thing for the man on the speaker to use against me later. Maybe that was his plan: to kill them once he'd gotten all he wanted and make me a member of their organization. A leader was always looking for new people to follow him, right?

Who's to say he didn't want that future for _me_, and who's to say their deaths wouldn't make me more inclined towards it, wouldn't be a breaking point after weeks or months in this room? Who's to say I wouldn't help him do the same thing to countless other families, just like my own…?

"No."

A fluttering began in my stomach, akin to the instinctual 'fight or flight' fear, but I knew that this was different. This wasn't telling me to run away so that I could live, but to escape this room so that my _parents_ could live. Because there wasn't a single other person in this world, right at this moment, that could help them. I feared only, suddenly, that I would be unable to do what I had to.

But I needed to overcome that. Needed to try something. Needed to get out. But how?

My insides jumping, I looked back towards the door. I could try it, but I hardly believed they were stupid enough to leave it unlocked. I could try and get them to unlock it from the other side, but they would be prepared, no doubt with tools similar to those they'd used on my back at the house just in case—

Then it hit me: the pokeball!

I looked at the vest by my hands and fumbled for the small, secret pocket. My heart leapt when I found the little sphere, glad they hadn't discovered it, and I clutched it tightly in my sweaty palms.

There was a moment as I got awkwardly to my feet, brief but powerful, where I thought it could be empty; a simple kind of calling card or an accidental bit of evidence, but I couldn't dwell on that. If it was, I'd need a plan B I currently couldn't perceive, and if it wasn't…I swallowed thickly, glaring at the lights above as I readied to open the ball—there would be no turning back.

So, sucking in a breath, legs shaking with anticipation, I whispered, "Go!" and let it roll out of my hands.


	3. Chapter 3

Within seconds, I heard the tinny popping of the ball flying open. I was temporarily blinded by the bright flash of light that followed, and, blinking spots from my eyes, I watched the red, laser-like beam shape a pokemon in midair. When it had faded, and light gave way to mass, I called out to him.

"Reuniclus!"

And he turned back to me, a curious look on his plasma-covered face. A red tag flopped on his ear. "Re?"

"I need you to open the door." I spoke calmly though my lips were shaking. The voice and his guards would have seen the pokeball open, and we had little time to leave before they arrived.

We both looked at each other, my heart pounding in my ears. I watched his eyes run over me, and then he frowned and shook his head.

I gasped. "What?"

The thing just shook his head again, crossing his long, dangly arms.

"Please open the door!" I begged, feeling stupid. "I know I'm not your trainer but I need your help! Please!"

But he still refused to budge. I felt panic churning with anger. "Listen, you, I—"

We both heard the rapid clicking that cut me off, and looked to see the knob twitching. I ran to the door, shoving past Reuniclus, and slammed my back against it. Pain shot up my arms but I laid all my weight against them and planted my feet as best I could. I could feel people pushing back; hear loud, angry voices shouting incoherently behind it.

Reuniclus floated over beside me and looked through the crack between door and wall, smiling at the encroaching assailants. I glanced over at him, teeth gritting with the effort to keep the crack from widening. I could swear this thing would just watch me get knocked out and imprisoned again with a smile! Too blithe to even recognize someone in need when they were right in front of him! I opened my mouth to plead with him again, desperate, but was cut off by a sudden low, growling sound.

"Reu…" he moaned, floating back to rub at his stomach morosely.

I felt something in my mind click.

"Reuniclus, you're hungry? You want to get something to eat?" I was grinning madly, speaking as though to a child.

The bait was taken. He nodded enthusiastically.

"How about you help me out of here, and I make you something to eat, then, okay? We can even go look for your trainer! Sound like a good deal to you?"

For a moment, he appeared to be deliberating. I felt the pressure on the door recede, but then heard that same sound of a pokeball was being opened, and a pit formed in my stomach. I didn't know what they had, but there was no way I could stand up to whatever move they would use.

"Do we have a deal!"

I barely saw him shake his head in agreement before I was suddenly flying forward. The force on my back made me fall to the ground, my cheek scraping the hard concrete. Behind me, I heard the triumphant baying of a Blitzle.

I rolled over, wincing, and watched as Reuniclus began to glow. Blitzle took a wary step back, but it couldn't escape the same blue light that overtook it. It writhed in the invisible grasp, neighing in confusion, and then flew back into the small mob of grunts before the door.

Everything on me was throbbing—including my adrenaline-flooded heart—and I roared to the Reuniclus, "Let's go!" as I scrambled to my feet.

Reuniclus was giggling to himself as I hopped over the incapacitated trainers. The sound, as it rose above the din, was mind-boggling—how could a pokemon that seemed so powerful be so…naïve?—but I couldn't dwell on it. Ahead lay a seemingly endless corridor, broken on the edges by doors that I guessed led to rooms just like the one I'd been in.

Guards in gray-white uniforms came out of the door at the end of the hall. I saw them through the clear gel of the floating germ, distorted and faceless. Without a word from me, he put his hands together, calling out almost cheerfully, and before my eyes a green ball of light formed between his three fat fingers. The guards seemed to hesitate, perhaps reach for pokeballs I couldn't see, but Reuniclus let loose the ball of energy before anything could be done. He knocked them down like bowling pins, and I noted their gradual collapse with more than a little satisfaction.

Reuniclus charged up another beam as I watched, and blew the door off its hinges. A chorus of cries let me knew it had hit the second wave of guards meant to recapture me, and I cheered despite everything, much to the delight of the pokemon. As we crossed the threshold, I watched him turn and wave, a look of childish apology on his face.

The door led us to a large, open area. It looked like some kind of commons; the middle of the hedge maze that was this seemingly enormous building. Hallway entrances spotted the walls on all sides, labeled with abbreviations that meant nothing to me, and the loud whine of an alarm echoed off the high walls. I stood in the center of the room, panting, while Reuniclus looked around, clearly in awe.

"Which way to the kitchen, Reuniclus?" I asked, desperate to keep moving.

He looked to me, then, and tipped his head. "Reu?"

"Uh, uh…The place where your trainer goes to eat! Where is that?"

Still completely oblivious to my panic, but appearing to have understood me at least, he put a hand on his chin, pondering.

I heard the cry of a different pokemon from within one of the many hallways before I knew what was happening. I whirled in the direction of the sound just in time to see the tunnel of fire burst forth from the passage entrance and collide with Reuniclus.

The sound of his scream sent a chill from the top of my head to the base of my spine; made my stomach writhe beneath my skin. I didn't get a chance to call out to him before a sudden and intense burning exploded across my torso.

His screaming ceased in my perception. My ears were filled with the sound of my own and the rush of scalding water that was soaking through my shirt and onto my skin, plastering the two together. I felt myself skidding backwards on the floor, pushed back by the burning stream that seemed never-ending.

And then it was over and I fell to my knees, gut seething and legs shaking and tears stinging my eyes. I could only stare at the floor, coughing and dripping in a haze of pure pain.

"Prisoner located." A deep male voice sounded from behind me. "Will be returned to her cell shortly."

I wanted to lift my head but I was in shock; nothing would listen. A thousand thoughts were rushing through my head but they flew in and died in light of the agony that consumed every inch of me now. So I remained where I was, hearing a distant voice growl above the waning alarm, "Well done, Simisear. Simipour."

Double-teamed.

A sudden pressure on my chin forced my neck up, sending another jolt of pain through me. The man towered before me, deep shadows cast on him by the lights high above us. I wanted him to see rage, but my face was contorted with pain and I couldn't get it to change.

"I knew we should've put more than just one pair of handcuffs on you," he grinned victoriously down at me.

Teeth clenched, I glanced sideways. I could see Reuniclus backed against a wall, looking from monkey to monkey as they approached him, cackling squeakily. His oil-drop eyes shimmered with fear and confusion. "Reu..niclus…"

He threw up his arms in defense, not hearing me.

"I'm not sure how you got that thing," he rolled his eyes towards Reuniclus, "but you've got terrible luck. One of the weakest things I've ever seen; its trainer probably left it just so they wouldn't have to deal with it."

I heard him chuckle but continued to look at the frightened little germ; watched him tremble as the monkeys reached for him and began to tug him from the wall. He let out a loud whimper when the Simipour gripped his arm, and I glimpsed the disfigured, blistering skin beneath fleshy paws.

Something happened, then, that was purely mental. The sound set off some kind of snap in my brain and everything stopped and I thought. I thought of laughter and of guards falling beneath the mass of glowing green power. I thought of a friendly smile and a Blitzle colliding with its attacking trainers. I thought of the baby pokemon that had been trained and evolved to a state that hid but couldn't suppress the simplicity of his age.

I owed my escape to that pokemon, his reasons for helping me aside. I'd needed and used him, and I still needed him now. But, at this moment, he needed me just as strongly. Here, in this room of metal hostility, we were prisoners with no one but each other to hope in for salvation. I couldn't get out of this alone, but neither could Reuniclus, and I, too, owed him his escape.

And then the moment was gone. The monkeys had a firm hold on Reuniclus and were bringing him back to their trainer, who still had a firm hold on me. I still shook with pain and my skin was on fire. I looked back to the man, swallowing. I finally felt fury reach my expression.

"Let him go," I hissed through gritted teeth.

He smirked. "I'm afraid I can't do that. If we don't teach him how to listen, he'll never learn. A lesson we'll be teaching you, too."

I glanced once more to Reuniclus. He stared back at me with tears in his tiny black eyes.

Then I shook my head from the man's hand and sunk my teeth into it.

He yelled and tried to draw back, but I didn't yield. I could taste blood in my mouth and feel it spotting my tongue before a hard slap to my cheek loosened my jaw and sent me to the floor.

I rolled away and back to my knees. While he was turned to run and grab me, I lunged forward and slammed my head into his gut. I felt the wind leave him before he staggered backwards, gasping.

"Reuniclus!" I shouted, our eyes locking as I rose to my feet. "Shake them off!"

With a sudden jerk he threw his arms about wildly, face still distorted with fear, and the grips of the monkeys failed, sending them flying back.

They landed as skillfully as cats and stood side-by-side, glaring at Reuniclus.

"Both of you, crunch!" their trainer ordered almost immediately.

The monkeys, growling, smiled to show large, sharp teeth, dripping shadow. They ran towards him then split up and leapt into the air, planning to get him on each side.

I bolted forward. Simisear caught Reuniclus on the back, but I jumped and shoved him out of the way and intercepted Simipour. I screamed as its teeth dug into my shoulder.

Reuniclus cried out as both monkeys withdrew, the damage done, back to their trainer's side. We stood facing each other, blood surging down my arm.

"Reu!" he whispered frantically, eyeing my bloody wound.

"Don't worry, I'm fine!" I smiled, trembling with the effort. "I'm not letting you do this alone, Reuniclus."

And he just stared back at me, wide lips parting silently.

With wheezing laughter, the guard rose to his feet. His pokemon stood in front of him. "Executive Maitland won't be pleased to see you in such bad shape, but he can't blame me if it's your own stupidity that causes it."

I squared my stance and glared at him. "Shut up and let's get started. I've got more important things to do than battle a useless grunt."

The man sneered, "Simisear! Simipour! Acrobatics!"

The monkeys jumped into the air, preparing to bear down upon us.

"Reuniclus! Dah—" but Simipour slammed me to the ground back-first. Pain exploded in my arms, but my cry was drowned out by that of Simisear. I saw it slam against a bright wall of light held by Reuniclus' hands, and then they both drew back.

"Psychic!" I cried, not caring who it hit.

At an awkward angle, I saw him glow and then the Simisear, caught in midair. Its eyes closed in frustration and agony, then it shot up onto the ceiling. Glass rained from a broken fixture, and both Simipour and I barely managed to dodge it. The form of Simisear came next, crash-landing on its stomach not far from me, gasping with pain.

I rolled over and got back up, legs trembling violently. I could feel warm trails of blood on my skin and my head was growing light. I didn't think I could go down again; not if I wanted to get back up.

"Scald, on the girl, now!"

Simipour and I locked eyes as it opened its mouth. I braced myself, ready to move. Then the stream of water exploded past its lips and raced towards me.

I leapt to the side and began to run towards it, but it caught wise and turned towards me, firing another stream. I moved aside again, but the water caught my knee and I stumbled. It prepared another blast while I was trying to regain my balance, and I was sure it would hit. But then an Energy Ball from nowhere exploded atop its water-drop hair.

I staggered to a stop before the cloud of smoke left by the impact. After a second, the smoke thinned and cleared, and I saw Simipour. It had collapsed against the wall, eyes closed in unconsciousness.

A bubble of joy rose in my chest, but I didn't get a chance to cheer. The guard cut me off with, "Crunch!", and I spun to see Simisear on its feet and running towards Reuniclus.

"Out of the way!" I cried, but damage had slowed him and Simisear caught his arm right on the burn.

Reuniclus howled in agony as the shadowed teeth sunk into his thick, gelatinous arm. He shook his arm wildly as I ran towards him with all the strength I could muster, but was still too slow. The monkey leapt off, smiling wickedly, just as I reached Reuniclus.

He drifted to the ground and I stood at his side, glaring at Simisear.

"Looks like you're on your last legs, girl," his trainer smirked, looking to both of us from the sidelines. "Though you lasted longer than I expected you would."

"It's not over," I shouted, but glanced worriedly down at Reuniclus. Panting, he looked back to me, then to Simisear, determination burning in his exhausted face.

"Maybe not. But after this, it will be."

With great effort, Reuniclus floated back up.

"Yes," I whispered, "it will."

And we both shouted in perfect unison:

"Energy Ball!"

"Flamethrower!"

The green glow filled my vision almost completely so that I almost couldn't see the flame begin to grow inside the monkey's gaping mouth. Then, suddenly, the two switched places, and the fire was sweeping Reuniclus back and nearly burning my left arm. I closed my eyes in reflex just after I saw Simisear, too, fly back. There were two loud, simultaneous _thuds_ and the sound of breaking glass. Then all was silent.

I stood, panting, with my eyes still squeezed shut for an eternal moment, almost afraid to open them, and when I did, it was to a haze of dust and heat and flickering light.

Through it, I saw Simisear collapsed in a heap on the floor. The guard shouted at it to get up as I turned to see Reuniclus in the same position, arms splayed at strange angles on the floor.

"Reuniclus!" The sheer sorrow in my voice shocked me as I wobbled over to him. I kneeled at his side, wishing I could shake him with my bound and aching hands. "Reuniclus, are you alright!"

And as I watched, his fingers twitched. Once. Twice. Then his arm shifted and pushed himself up, raising his head up just enough to show me his eyes.

I locked onto them, "Reuniclus!" I wanted desperately to hug him, but I could only press my cheek to his head. "You were wonderful. Thank you so much."

"Reu," he murmured softly, his eyes fogged with exhaustion, though he still managed to smile back at me.

"No!" roared the guard. We both looked to see him standing before his fainted pokemon, face red with rage. "This means nothing! You're still coming with me!"

He stormed towards us. I tried to stand but before I could, Reuniclus raised his arm to stop me. I saw that arm glow, watched it pass on to the guard. Before my eyes, he froze and then was lifted into the air. He stared daggers at me and yelled in protest—his mouth all he could move—as he was thrown backward into the wall. His head cracked hard into the concrete, and then the glowing ceased and he fell to the floor, next to his Simisear.

We both watched for a few tense moments, but he didn't move.

I felt a rapid burst of air rush from my lungs. In light of it, the room remained still.

"It's…over…" I panted. I tried again to get to my feet but my legs wouldn't move. Reuniclus looked back at me with a strange expression on his face, but my head was too light with relief to focus on it. "Now we can go find my parents! Now we...can…"

Adrenaline still flowed, but it had ceased to be enough. I succumbed to the punctures on my shoulder still dripping blood. The next thing I knew, my world inverted and I collapsed onto something hard. Pain flared in my neck and my shoulders; warmth was pooling slowly around one of them.

I heard Reuniclus call out to me as though through water.

"I'm Cicero, by the way," I murmured, feeling something like jelly begin sliding across my shoulders and my calves. It was soft; soft enough that it was comfortable on my burned and broken and dust-caked skin. "Are you ready for me to make you lunch?"


	4. Chapter 4

The universe became nothing but a gray, shifting fog rimmed in black. All sounds in it were dull and low and uniform, as though I was in a fishbowl while someone tapped the glass. And yet, I was never feeling pain. I'd been slowly growing numb after my collapse, and the more complete my neural deadness, the better I felt. This fishbowl world was relaxing, and continued to draw me deeper in as I watched it sway above me. I didn't know why, but however large the darkness grew around it, I was never completely engulfed, though I did nothing to fight against it.

Time had ceased to exist. I'll never know how long I resided in the quietly fluctuating gray-black universe.

When it finally changed, it was because to a sudden tipping of the water that was my brain. It lapped against the inside of my forehead, accompanied by sudden wave of nausea. I gagged, but there was nothing to come up.

Then, the mental puddle slapped back against the base of my skull, and with that, the world became still.

I simply stared into the haze. The darkness had subsided, perhaps scared away by the momentary shift, and was staying in firm place along the edges of my vision. I knew cold. I knew tingling in my shoulder. I knew nothing more.

Though I remained still, a blob of green emerged from the bottom of the haze. I blinked at it, slowly, and a low sound seemed to come from it. Some distant memory was trying to tell me what it was, but my mental capacity was still drowning in the fishbowl.

The feeling in my shoulder suddenly changed. Tingling morphed into a single roaring anguish, and I heard a sound like a creaking hinge exit my throat, tears springing into my eyes. The separate sensations combined to clear a thin layer of the haze on my perception. I became aware of my own labored breathing and the sweat on my skin—a warm topcoat over the permeating chill. Numbness, once gone, didn't completely return, and even though feeling was minimal, it was enough to bring pain back into my unappreciative grasp. I couldn't even think about trying to move; every muscle was pounding and heavy

So I continued to lie there, shoulder pulsating with pain, while the green blob continued to float above me. I kept my eyes on it, blinking purposefully, trying to push back the remains of the haze that pain hadn't cleared away. It made another sound, clearer this time, and a fact dully rose to the surface of my mind; a single bubble from the depths of fatigue.

"Reuniclus," I said in a cracked whisper.

And then my cheeks were stinging. Not strongly, but enough to make me wince, and I could feel the pinprick of discomfort running down my face in a line. At that same instant, a tangy liquid was filling my mouth and washing the dirt off my tongue. I swallowed it gratefully and without pause, the taste of it smacking me in the back of the nose. I could almost feel it splashing into my empty stomach. Where it landed, warmth came into existence and began to slowly radiate outward, climbing up my torso and down my legs and sweeping away weariness, layer by layer. I clung to whatever the source of the delicious, healing juice was, desperate for its continued effects to wash over me and lift the paralyzing weights from my muscles.

When I reached the end of the life-giving spring, I took a gasping breath. Nearly everything still hurt; my stomach and knee were burning, my shoulder was stiff and throbbing, and both cheeks hurt enough to make me fear smiling. But this was all the soreness of external damage. My legs hurt only on the outside, rather than pounding from the inside-out due to overuse, and—a wonderful relief—my head was coming down from the high of blood loss, at least to the point where I could think. As well as see the ceiling of wherever we were, hidden a great deal by the shadowed form of Reuniclus.

"Sitrus Berry Juice," I murmured, coherent enough now to remember the strong taste. I smiled at him, biting back a flinch. "Thank you."

He smiled back at me, but stayed where he was, his eyes searching my face. There was something expectant in his closeness, as though he wanted me to move or wanted himself to guess what else I needed, but neither seemed to be occurring. I wasn't tired to the point of being dazed, but I had still lost blood and was possessed by a lingering lethargy as though a high fever had just broken.

"I'm fine now," I assured him, which was, for the most part, true. "Drink some of that juice yourself, okay? I'll be up in a minute."

There was a moment of hesitation, and then he slowly floated out of view.

My eyes fell closed, then, though I didn't intend sleep, despite how easy I knew it would be to let it take me over. I made the world fall away from me until I was all that existed in the darkness, and I took a deep breath, fingers twitching at the stinging of my burned skin as it stretched over my ribs, then let it slowly out. I felt my memory beginning to rebuild itself from the ground up, replaying the preceding events before my eyes so that I might determine both where we were and where we might go next.

The blurry world I'd passed through meant nothing in terms of revealing location, but I recalled my short babbling while Reuniclus was lifting me, and guessed we'd finally found the cafeteria; this also explained the juice. Most likely, there was more where that came from, as well as more varieties of berries I could use. Once I found them, I could heal Reuniclus, too, as well as my own injuries. I'd have to go from there in terms of planning our next move, though. Neither of us could do anything now, as weak as we were, so I would just focus on putting us back together before I did anything else—indeed, at the moment, that was all I _could_ do.

Well, I supposed, the one other thing I could do was sit up.

The tiled ceiling looked back at me dully as I opened my eyes and urged the first bit of movement into my neck. Moving up, my head swam a little, and my back and shoulders moaned in protest. Pain shot up the arm Simipour had bitten, and I placed all my weight on the uninjured one, which made it a little more bearable. However, my stomach could only hurt worse, as my new position made burned flesh fold over and rub burned flesh. I sucked it a breath, face contracting in discomfort, but eventually came to rest in a sitting position, relishing the feeling of cold tile beneath by freed palms. I was sweating mildly and breathing a little heavily, and my injured arm and stomach were pounding.

Reuniclus floated just past my feet, eyeing me over the empty bottle at his lips. He looked at me with eyes clear and sharp with the effects of the Sitrus Berries. Behind him, I saw metal carts with half-roofs made of plexi-glass pushed up against the wall. Tall, safe-like rectangles flanked them, and on the walls surrounding us were opaque doors with large, heavy metal handles and glass-front doors with tiny silver knobs. One of the large doors was open, a few bottles and boxes spilled on the floor near its entrance. So, we were in the kitchen.

I turned behind me and saw a door with large windows on either side. One of the carts was crushed up against it, and I felt my eyes widen. I faced Reuniclus, and he looked a little embarrassed.

"Think you could bring me some more berries, Reuniclus?" I asked, chuckling. "Pecha and Rawst. Do you know what they look like?"

He did. After a moment he returned from the open storage fridge with arms full of both, and dropped them into a rough pile before me, looking curious and eager.

I started with my arm which, I discovered, Reuniclus must have crudely wrapped in an apron. Large spots of crusted blood came off when I lifted the fabric, but there was plenty left all down my arm. I grimaced and asked for a wet towel…or six

By the time I was done cleaning my arm, three of them were stained a dark shade of pink. I tossed the last one to the side with the rest and got my first look at the wound. The punctures left weren't very deep, but there were a lot of them encircling the top and back of my shoulder, each one with a tiny well of red beginning to peek out of it. I wasted no time grabbing a Pecha berry, though Reuniclus, who had been observing quietly up until this point, made an inquisitive noise when I did.

I looked to him, grinning. "It disinfects," I explained, and split the skin of the berry with my nail; squeezed it so the pale-pink juice bubbled out of the cut and onto my arm.

I hissed when the juice made contact, sharp needles of pain emerging wherever the drops laded.

In an instant, Reuniclus was in front of me, looking worriedly at my burning shoulder, and then to me. I jumped back a little and stared into his eyes, startlingly close to mine and filled with concern. "Reuniclus, don't worry," I said, a little taken aback. "It hurts, but that means it's working. I'm alright now. It's okay."

He looked at me for another moment then gradually floated back, but remained fairly close. It made me feel a bit uneasy to see such sadness in his expression when it was directed at me, but I had to finish patching myself up.

Once the stinging had dimmed, I wiped the excess off with one of the remaining towels. Finally, employing Reuniclus' hands, I re-wrapped the wound, smiling at our handiwork and then at him, but he had looked away.

My smile faded while I watched him sway back and forth in the air, fidgeting with his arms and rubbing at his burn. "Hey, hey," I called gently. He looked back up at me with a sad, sheepish expression. "Don't mess with it, okay? Just wait a second." And I began the second momentous task of getting to my feet.

This proved to be less difficult than sitting up. The damage to my legs had been minimal, and they were fairly ready to cooperate. Changing height made my brain rock back a little in my head, and I staggered when I finally reached my feet, but, other than that, it was a fairly painless process. In fact, to be standing was actually a bit of a relief, since I hadn't stood completely upright since before I'd been handcuffed. Despite the ache in my shoulder and my stomach, I stretched towards the ceiling, and I _reveled _in it.

"Alright," I smiled at Reuniclus. "C'mere. Let's get you taken care of, huh?"

I picked up a few of the Rawst berries and walked over to the cart holding the door shut. I'd already found a fork and was using my uninjured arm to mash the berries when I finally felt him beside me, watching the tiny blue fruits combine into a pulpy, seedy mush.

"Give me your arm," I said, and he lifted it slowly into my vision.

For the first time, I saw his burn close up, and I grimaced. It looked like the surface of a toasted marshmallow, dark and blistering and dirty with dead skin and rubble. I still hadn't looked at my stomach yet, but I knew it couldn't be this bad. How he had managed to hide his pain for so long, I thought, looking at him through the corner of my eye, was something I would never know. That he had to at all made me feel a pang of guilt, and I looked away, flushing.

I first used the last of the towels to clean the surface of the burn, and then scooped a handful of Rawst berry pulp and began to rub the mash onto his skin.

A few moments of silence passed, and I reached a comfortable equilibrium with the monotonous motion of my fingers. He winced and let out a little whimper, and I hummed reassurances under my breath about the swiftness with which I'd be finished; his muscles tensed with discomfort, but he was otherwise silent after that.

At last, I was wrapping a towel around his arm. "Reuniclus," I began, tying off the fabric. "I…I know I never really asked, but I really appreciate all you've done for me. I'd still be back in my cell if it weren't for you, so…I just want to thank you for your help." I turned to him, smiling, and found him looking back at me with silent tears in his eyes.

"Hey, what's—?"

"Reu!" he cried, and cut me off by throwing his long arms around me.

Pain flared at the contact and the little tag in his ear smacked my cheek. "Reuniclus, what's the matter!"

"_Cici!"_

The voice of a child sounded in my head—it didn't come in from my ears; it sounded from _within my head_. I gasped.

"_I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"_

For a moment, I just stood there. I could feel tears soaking the skin on my shoulder. My eyes shifted to the cumbersome form pressing against me. "Reuniclus…is that you?"

He pulled back, but kept hold of my shoulders. "_You saved me and you got hurt! I'm sorry, Cici! I'm sorry!"_

Our eyes locked, his streaming tears and mine wide with shock. I'd learned long ago that psychic pokemon could communicate with telepathy, but this was the first time I'd experienced it. The voice of this pokemon was suddenly as startlingly human as it was sad; both were so strong it was almost painful. Suddenly I could _hear_ the voice of the child in this large, ill-fitting body; hear the child that had been forced into maturity.

"No," I whispered and, finally able to lift it, put my hand on his forehead. "No, it's not your fault. Don't be sorry, please…"

"_But…"_

I shook my head. "You've done so much more for me, Reuniclus. You helped me get out of prison, you kept me safe after the battle; you even protected me, too, while we were fighting. Remember?"

Behind my eyes, I watched Simipour get blown back by Energy Ball, but I knew it was not my memory. Reuniclus nodded lightly.

"See? So there's no reason to be sorry. Helping each other is just what friends do. And that's what we are now, Reuniclus."

He was quiet again, inside and outside of his mind, and then a wide smile broke out across his face. For the second time, he embraced me, nuzzling my shoulder.

"Ow," I groaned, but suddenly it was like the dam on his mind broke open and my head was flooded with his memories.

I was first in a field, staring at a man in the same uniform as every other in this facility, save for the violet stripe on his shoulder. A pokeball flew from his hand, and then my vision was filled with a blinding red light, then cut instantly off by darkness as though I'd gone blind. Light came back in a violent flash of white and I was in what looked like an empty warehouse with a Zebstrika neighing loudly and pawing at the floor; a blue tag on its ear read H29. The motion of the ensuing battle was fast and dizzying, and it was almost impossible to tell what move was being used by whom and when it missed or when it hit. When it finally ended, the Zebstrika was on the ground, and then the world faded gradually back to black. I watched every battle after that speed past my eyes like the landscape out of a train window; I watched the intensity dwindle until I stopped using moves was floating high above the enemy pokemon and touching the top of the warehouse, laughter ringing in my ears. And then I was back on the floor, a man approaching me with a piercing gun. No more battles; only gazing down upon the pokemon below, waving and calling out to them before I tumbled down and was engulfed in black.

My head felt like it was going to burst but I couldn't cry out. I was mesmerized by what I saw because it was like I was experiencing it myself; I could see and hear and smell and feel everything so strongly it hurt.

But it didn't stop. One more image emerged from the blackness, completely different from everything I'd seen before.

I was soaring high above the world, propelling myself through the warm summer sun and looking down on forests and lakes and rainbow-colored fields. I danced with birds as we met in the air, skimmed the surface of the ocean with my hand, flew to the top of the highest tree and swung on the branches. And I was warm, and I was happy, and I was free to fly anywhere in the world, with no one who could force me to land.

And then it was over.

It was like my consciousness crash-landed back into my body. My muscles jerked and Reuniclus released me, frightened by my sudden motion. I stood, staring at him, head aching while drops of sweat beaded my skin. My breath was ragged as it passed my lips.

I just stared at him, mind reforming itself as the foreign memories cemented themselves into mine. "Reuniclus…"

He looked back at me, confused and hurt, while my heart thundered in my chest.

Then I was walking towards him, still dazed, and didn't stop until my face collided with his slick, lumpy forehead. I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring the pain in my shoulder, and murmured, "Reuniclus, I'm so sorry."

"_Cici?"_ His voice was gentle, still baffled. "_I thought we didn't have to be sorry."_

I shook my head. Neither of us knew why I'd seen what I had—apparently, he hadn't even realized I'd seen it—but it couldn't be taken back, and suddenly, there was more weighing on my finding my parents and escaping this place then just my family's lives. I also had the lives of countless pokemon, just like Reuniclus, in my hands; pokemon with dreams and desires that the man on the intercom and his soldiers had crushed, turning them all into nothing more than the numbers on their tags.

Pulling away, I looked to the red plastic on his ear; K08 was etched into it.

K08. That was who Reuniclus was here: a letter and a number amidst a sea of more letters and numbers. No one else here knew what I did about him, and even if they did, they wouldn't have cared. As long as he was here, he'd be as trapped as I was—worse, I thought, remembering the guard's warning. After everything he'd done, if his memories gave me any insight into these people, he'd most likely never see the sun again.

I lifted my eyes and looked into his. I could feel my sadness giving way to rage as I clung to him.

"_You're shaking…" _he thought quietly.

"Reuniclus," I whispered fervently. "I know what you want more than anything in the world, and I promise I'll help you get it."

He gasped. "_What_?"

I smiled, "I can get you out of here, Reuniclus, and you'll never have to come back again. But I just need your help a little bit longer." I took one of his hands in both of mine and told him what I'd seen and what I needed. I told him in more detail why I'd released him from the pokeball and told him everything I knew about what we were getting into…which was very little. I could only say that somewhere was the leader of this organization, as well as my parents, and that I had to find them and take him down, no matter what. The only way I could do this, I said again, was with his help; I couldn't get anywhere on my own in a place filled with trainers.

"You don't like to battle," I said, tapping his temple. "I saw that. But if you'll battle with me just a little bit longer, I promise I'll set you free. Okay?"

I was reminded of the look he'd given me during the battle: the look of utter disbelief that had crossed it when I assured him he wouldn't be fighting alone. It was almost as funny as it was infuriating that being helped selflessly was so strange to him.

After a moment of this look, he nodded, smiling as he squished my hands between both of his.

"_Helping each other is what friends do, right?"_

"Thank you," I smiled back. "Thank you so much."

That was when I heard the laughter; rich and chilling and familiar, yet utterly foreign in the scene. I jumped, and then I froze.

"So _this_ is where you went," said a voice.

I knew it immediately from the intercom, muffled now by the door. The same fear I'd felt in my prison was suddenly dripping down my spine. I hated it, but it came without warning and I couldn't escape it. I started shivering and, in my grasp, Reuniclus was, too.

My head turned to the door with agonizing slowness. "You…" I whispered.

"There are a few things I wish to discuss with you, Cicero," he told me, knocking lightly on the door. "I'll be waiting outside. Please, don't be long." And I could almost hear his deliberate footsteps moving away and into silent oblivion.

For a few seconds, I just stared at the door. Then the ice-water of fear suddenly began to boil and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and my dwindling rage came back in a rush of heat through my veins. He was here, at last, and I was ready.

And I was not alone.

"Reuniclus…"

I don't know if he saw it in my mind or found his own determination, but, before my eyes, the cart slid out from in front of the door.


	5. Chapter 5

The cafeteria was lit like a stadium: blindingly bright with shadows like coagulated blood.

But there was really only one shadow in the whole room, and I approached it, my footsteps like a pounding bass-drum in the deafening silence, with a slow, determined gait. Reuniclus floated along beside me soundlessly.

A few feet from him, we stopped, and I forced back my rage to give him a cold, steely glare. He looked back at me, standing straight, with his hands clasped behind his back.

Then, though no one moved, I heard a pokeball open and blinked against the flash of light. The light had originated at his hip, and as I watched, it changed from white to red, but it didn't immediately shape the pokemon. Instead, the red light slunk out from his hip, becoming first the head of an enormous snake. The head slithered along the floor around its master's feet, pulling red light behind it until it gave way to solid green as it moved out of its spherical resting place. When the circle was completed, it rose up, towering above the head of the man from the intercom. The red light cast its face in an eerie color, and then its ivy-leaf tail fell gracefully to the floor, brushing his trainer's shin as the light faded. The Serperior made a single, quiet hiss, and then focused his expressionless eyes on Reuniclus.

I felt my pokemon shudder.

"Are you feeling better, Cicero?" he asked.

If my escape affected him at all, it didn't show. He merely gazed at me calmly, expression blank as though he were observing a chair in the middle of a room.

I watched him stand, motionless. In the glow of the cafeteria fluorescents, his slicked hair shone a rich burgundy. The ends of it flipped at the base of his skull; a half-circle of tiny thorns above the collar of his pristine, pressed uniform. His eyes were black on his shadowed face, but I could feel them meeting mine, searching my face, like hot coals brushing across my skin.

He exuded power and perfection. He held everyone in the room in the palm of his hand—he _and_ his pokemon—and both sides knew it. I became suddenly very aware of my own appearance; of my ripped, blood-stained clothes and loose, tangled hair. My stomach recoiled in my burned, untreated gut, and as it did, I felt a name I'd barely heard bubbling up from my throat, though I couldn't say why.

"Executive Maitland."

Unflinching, he continued to look at me for another moment, and then his burning stare was on Reuniclus; I felt a physical relief in my smoldering cheeks.

"And you, K08. Did you enjoy yourself?" The tiniest of smirks played on his lips. "I truly hope so, because that little act of treason ensures you will never battle for us again—"

"Damn right he won't!" I shouted, and it was loud and sudden enough to make me jump. I kept going, "After we take you down and beat my parents' location out of you, he's coming with me!"

"Oh, he is?" his stare was back on me, eyebrows raised. "You're aware that stealing another trainer's pokemon is a felony."

"He's never belonged to you," I spat. "And his _trainer_ abandoned him. I found him and protected him. That makes him _my_ partner now."

"You may have him, then," Maitland shrugged—a graceful, fluid motion. "Though, it's no great loss, I suppose. One who would turn against us so easily is hardly worth having."

He turned to his Serperior, who lowered his head obediently, and began to stroke his chin. Serperior's hazel eyes met his master's, and another low hiss rumbled in his throat. There was so much simple, genuine affection in the gesture that I was visibly startled. He looked sideways at me, grinning, but continued to smooth his pokemon's pale, grassy scales.

"Which brings me to the issue of…you."

I swallowed, clenching my fists. "I was right, then. You were hoping to get yourself another soldier when this whole thing was finished."

"I knew I could trust you with the details," he nodded. "Yes, I had imagined I might be able to persuade you into our service. You've got a great deal of potential, Cicero. Kaleidoscope would have greatly benefitted from having a trainer such as yourself in our ranks. But it's clear that I was mistaken. Much like K08, who seems to have withstood our most rigorous trainers, I've reason to believe you'll fight me at every turn."

"'Kaleidoscope?'" I repeated. "Is that what you call this little group?"

"Little group?" he raised one eyebrow. His hand fell from Serperior's chin, then, and he was looking full-on at me again; Serperior glared back at Reuniclus. "Please, don't insult me. We're much more than that.

"We are the Kaleidoscope Organization: a collection of the wise and the like-minded who wish for nothing more than prosperity."

I felt confusion twisting my expression.

He chuckled. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever looked inside a kaleidoscope? The countless colors dancing and changing before your very eyes; never the same image twice. It's breath-taking. But without a hand to move it, the beauty vanishes; everything stands still in dark, ugly stagnancy. The world is no different. It is beautiful and ever-changing, but there must be a hand to keep that change in motion—otherwise, we are little more than so many specks of dust on the lens of time.

"Kaleidoscope _is_ that hand. We observe the colors of the present and spin them into a beautiful future."

"So, what, you want to conquer the world?" I mocked.

"Conquer?" At that, he actually laughed out loud. It echoed off the high ceilings and slammed against my eardrums. "Why? If any one person should hold the world, it would cease to move, frozen into their own image. No, we do not want to _conquer_ the world. We want to steer it: to keep the world spinning and changing, to observe the present so that we may best shape the future. To ensure the beauty of the world remains forever, by ensuring it is forever moving and evolving!

"_Carpe Aevum_!" he roared, arms spreading at his sides. "_Seize_ eternity! We will spread our influence throughout the world, until there is no aspect of it we can't touch, and make sure its beauty remains! Forever!"

I stood in light of his booming announcement, fighting the urge to step back. His eyes were hard and steady above his grinning mouth, and the passion within them was like seething liquid spilling onto me. But he hadn't lost himself. He still held all the composure and authority that raised goose bumps on my skin, and I was silenced by it.

I watched the lava in his eyes harden and cool, but he didn't speak again. I could tell he was waiting for me to fill in the details. He knew what I wanted to ask, and he knew the answer; but he wanted to hear it from me.

"Naturally," I said, "you need money before you can do anything. Which is where my family comes in."

A smile slowly curled across his lips. "Which is where your _parents_ come in."

I tensed.

"I'm not really sure what I'm to do with you now, Cicero. I had a plan and it fell through. And there are very few ways with which I can rectify it."

My body started shaking. "Except to dispose of the evidence."

Serperior's tail slipped out from around him and Maitland took a step back, smile unmoving. The pokemon slithered forward, hissing in warning.

Reuniclus was suddenly in front of me, glaring defiantly at the snake, whose eyes remained cold. "Get ready," I whispered, shakily. I'd known this moment was coming since the second I broke out of prison.

"Soterios," he said. "Slam."

It began in a blur. One second the Serperior was glaring at us and the next he smashed into Reuniclus. I barely had time to leap out of the way before they both fell to the ground, Reuniclus crying out.

"Psychic, now! Push it off!"

But the sense had been knocked out of him and Soterios was too fast.

"Leech Seed."

Before he could focus, vines were growing out of the snake and onto my pokemon, winding around his arms and his torso. Then Soterios zipped away and back to Maitland.

Reuniclus floated back up, beginning to glow, but as soon as he did, the vines did the same, and he screamed.

"Reuniclus!"

Maitland grinned, and a thin layer of yellow light overtook Soterios for a moment, then both pokemons' light faded.

I glared angrily at the man and his pokemon, who looked as though they'd never even moved. Reuniclus was already beginning to sweat; as was I. We were already behind less than a minute into the battle. Maitland's eyes locked on mine.

"Again," he ordered.

"Light Screen!"

I called to Reuniclus a second after Maitland spoke, and heard the same smacking sound of collision. But Reuniclus stayed where he was behind a glowing pink wall, holding Soterios' large, heavy tail at bay. The two stared angrily at each other, then the snake leapt back. Just as he was nearing the ground, I shouted, "Psychic!"

This time, it hit. Soterios froze just above the ground, mouth open in silent scream. Beneath the glow of Psychic, I saw the healing light of Leech Seed take effect, but he was still thrown up and slammed, hard, into the ground. I heard the breath being forced out of him; saw his eyes shut in pain.

I couldn't stop my smile, but Maitland looked unfazed. He only said, "Coil."

Soterios' eyes shot open and his whole body curled into a tight spiral, suddenly glowing violet.

"Psychic!" I cried, and I watched light overtake Reuniclus, turning his eyes from black to silver.

I never heard Maitland announce his next attack; didn't know it was coming until a flurry of leaves was beginning to swirl below Reuniclus. I gasped. "Wait, no! Get out of the—"

But it was too late. The flurry suddenly exploded into a wall of green, the rustling of millions upon millions of leaves drowning out my voice. Throwing my arms up against the rapidly flying leaves, I called out to Reuniclus, but I could barely even hear myself. I knew he had to be screaming within the wall, and just the thought of it was unbearable. Wind howled and the leaves rose to the ceiling, whipping around haphazardly like a cloud of hornets, all at the whim of Soterios.

Then, the leaves vanished in a wave of light. I saw Reuniclus high above me, suspended near the ceiling as though frozen. The moment broke and he tumbled downward, slamming into the ground. He was motionless; his body covered with cuts as thin as paper beneath the vines—completely intact. The bandage on his arm was shredded and I could see his burn.

"Reuniclus!" I shouted. But he didn't move. His eyes were closed.

"No," I whispered, trembling. "No!"

And as I watched, the vines withered and died, their job done.

The battle was already over.

I whirled back to Maitland, tears of rage stinging my eyes, and saw Soterios jetting towards me. I only had time to scream before he was constricting me, crushing my body in on itself with his own, and then my scream was reduced to a thin line of breath. I stared at the ceiling, blood rushing into my face, spots entering my vision—

"Not yet, Soterios," Maitland's voice came from miles away.

And then the pressure diminished and I went slack and my head fell forward onto one of the snake's coils. I took deep, grateful breaths, still in shock. Tears still rested firmly on my eyes.

I was expecting Maitland to laugh. He'd defeated us so swiftly and so easily that I felt like a joke; like our victory earlier and our dreams were simply things designed to urge us forward into our demise; like fate never intended us to get out of this place alive. Every second that went by that wasn't filled with it was filled with my own breathing and Soterios' hissing in my ear.

But he never laughed. He only said, quietly, "It was no coincidence that you defeated one of my soldiers, but it seems I overestimated your abilities. I expected you'd last a great deal longer."

I lifted my head to glare at him, but he'd looked away. He stopped to look at Reuniclus, not with disgust, but with what looked liked true disappointment, before holding out a pokeball. Red light shot from the ball, consumed Reuniclus, and then he disappeared. I felt a deep stab of misery. I was now, once again, completely alone.

"Your parents will be just fine," he assured me.

"Of course they will," I tried to yell, but the snake's grip was tight on my lungs. "They'll have nothing left to fight for now. They'll give you every last cent they have because they've got nothing else!"

He grinned at me; a simple smile that told me there was nothing I could say that he didn't already know. Sliding Reuniclus' pokeball onto his hip, he moved closer; so close I could smell the cologne on his skin beneath the uniform.

"What about him?" I whispered through my teeth, glancing to the ball and back again. "What are you going to do with him?"

"Like you, he's got exceptional abilities, though is unable to use them. I suspect his offspring will serve us well."

Then, that same look of disappointment crossed his face, and he put a hand on my head. Revulsion thrashed in my stomach and I struggled beneath his hand, but the tightening of Soterios' grip painfully stopped me.

"Oh, Cicero," he sighed. "How poetic that K08 should be your first and last pokemon. You're so alike in so many ways. Kaleidoscope offered each of you a place in eternity and you turned us down. I'm saddened to lose you both, truly. If you'll only reconsider, there's still a place for you here. "

For a long a moment, I just glared at him. Then, rage rose in me like bile and, without thinking, I spat in his face.

The pain was excruciating as Soterios clutched me, furious that I disrespected his master. I knew I only had to repent and accept to get it to stop; only had to promise that I would remain forever loyal to Executive Maitland and his group and the agony would cease and I'd be free. But I knew what that entailed, and I couldn't accept that; couldn't live if it meant helping this man tear apart families simply because they had money. I was now incapable of stopping him, but at least I knew I'd shaken him; I'd lost him a pokemon and damaged his facility. In that way, I'd affected the change he was so desperate for.

Even if I'd wanted to, his grip was so tight I couldn't speak if I tried. And so I accepted the pain, knowing that soon, it would fade and I wouldn't know anything anymore. I saw my parents' faces, though my eyes were on Maitland, until the spots were in my eyes again and growing like mold across their images.

"_Cici!"_

And then the world turned white.

There was a single instant where nothing existed; when my ears were deaf and my body was numb and my eyes saw only the endless, featureless white.

And then I hit the ground, tile cold on my skin and my shoulder aching on impact. I was gasping for breath, my head was spinning as blood flowed back out of my skull and down my neck. Burning warmth flooded my limbs.

"_Cici!_"

I knew the voice immediately.

"Reuniclus!" I sat bolt upright, yelling with all my might.

He was floating high above me, looking down. Silver-blue light engulfed him and his arms were spread at his sides. And near the end of each of his hands, Maitland and Soterios floated beside him, the same light covering them. I could hear each of them roaring in agony as the attack wreaked havoc on their minds.

"_You're the ones who hurt her,"_ I heard him in my mind, his voice cold with rage. "_I'll never forgive you!"_

Soterios suddenly flew sideways, slamming into the wall. Again and again, Reuniclus forced him into the hard brick surface, the cries of the snake making me wince, until bits of rubble were raining down. Only after that did he release the Serperior and let him fall to the floor. I watched his descent, mouth agape, and stared where he landed.

"Soterios!" Maitland cried, and despite everything, I was chilled by the raw grief in his voice.

Reuniclus turned to look at him, his glowing eyes dead, and I could see fear creep into Maitland's expression. My pokemon raised his arm, lifting the executive above his head, preparing to slam him into the ceiling.

And for a split second, I wanted him to do it. I wanted to see that bastard hit the ceiling again and again and again until he fell to the ground, broken and bloody and relish in his demise.

But then, I heard Reuniclus' sweet, innocent voice; I remembered him laughing, high above the violence of battle, and that image clashed so fiercely with the cold, dead-eyed pokemon floating above me that I couldn't let it happen. I couldn't let that sweetness become stained with blood.

I opened my mouth to scream—

"Reuniclus, that's enough!"

I heard the words I'd wanted to shout. But it wasn't my lips they'd come from.

Everyone turned to the source of the voice—coming from the door at my back—and as we did, the universe paused.

I saw the woman who'd shouted the order on the tip of my tongue standing next to a man. They were both in pure white uniforms. She had wavy brown hair that just touched her shoulders and shone clean and beautiful in the bright lights of the cafeteria. He had straight black hair that hung, straight and lazy, down his cheeks and forehead and almost into his eyes, which were the same shade as mine—forest green.

My organs changed places with each other, then fell to the floor. My voice was barely a whisper.

"Mom…? Dad…?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Happy last day of school, sweetie!" Mom smiled, teeth glittering.

Before I knew it I was running, numb but to the fact that they were there and they were alive and I could see them and I wanted so badly to touch them and know that they were real.

They were.

I slammed into them, arms around each of them in an awkward, impossible hug, and they returned it, squeezing my tender, wounded body tight. It didn't hurt; I only felt the warmth of them and the softness of their hair tickling my shoulder and heard their voices rumble in their chests. I was crying, and the fabric of their clothes turned damp and smeared the dust on my face.

"Thank goodness you're okay!" I sobbed. "I was so worried about you!"

"You were fantastic, Cicero," my father said.

I raised my head to look at them, smiling like an idiot while tears streamed down my face. I was so happy I felt like I would explode. "How did you get here! How did you escape!"

Neither of them got a chance to answer. Before they could even open their mouths, Maitland yelled, "Soterios!"

I whirled to see him running towards the form of his pokemon, head raised weakly up. His orange-brown eyes rested cloudily on his master, and I saw a thin forked tongue flick out to taste the air

Maitland crouched before him, looking his pokemon up and down, who then gingerly rested his chin on the executive's shoulder. I half-expected him to wrap his arms around the snake's body—the relief on his face was so drastic—but he simply closed his eyes and put one hand on Soterios' back and gently smoothed his scales. I could see the pokemon smiling.

Mom walked out of our embrace and over to Maitland, slowly. Shocked, I tried to pull away and follow her, but Dad held me back. I turned to look at him and found him smiling back at me.

"Don't worry," he said. "It's a _long_ story, but don't worry."

I stared at him, simultaneously filled with happiness just be seeing him and also with confusion. "What?" I glanced to mom and then back to him, expectantly.

He chuckled and gently dislodged himself from my grasp, throwing his arm around my shoulder. Guiding me gently, we walked over to Mom. Reuniclus remained where he was.

"…intense than we thought." I caught the end of Mom's statement when we reached her, kneeling beside Maitland and Soterios, her hand gently stroking the pokemon's head. "I'm glad you're both all right, Vilmos."

"Thank you, Theresa," Maitland nodded, smiling slightly, almost absently, "though I may have let myself get a little out of hand, too."

"That's an understatement, you big ham." Dad laughed, and when Vilmos looked at him, chided, "Don't give me that look; I heard your speech. Quite the little actor, aren't you?"

At that, Maitland actually laughed—a warm, friendly sound, "You wanted realistic; I did realistic. Personally, I quite enjoyed my performance."

I was suddenly lightheaded—Realism? Performance? What were they talking about? And for that matter, why were they talking so casually with the man who'd kidnapped them?

I squirmed out of Dad's grasp. "Wait, wait, wait. What are you all talking about?" I looked to each of them, who stared back at me.

Smiling proudly, Mom got to her feet.

"Honey, you've passed your test!"

"My…My what?"

"You remember us telling you that you had to come right home today?" Dad put in. "Well, this is why! Today's the day of your test, and you've passed with flying colors!"

I was utterly perplexed. "_What_ was my test! _How _did I pass! You're not making sense!"

Mom and Dad looked to each other, apparently deciding who would make all this clear to me, and then turned back.

Dad began, "Cicero, for as long as you've been alive, we've been telling you the importance of knowing and understanding the world of pokemon before you explore it. For that reason, we put you through the finest schools and took you all over the world, but we had to know you could use everything you'd learned in the real world."

"And so," Mom interjected, throwing her arms out and beaming, "we built _this_! The facility, the organization, the pokemon, the people; _everything_! Since before you were born, we've been looking forward to this day! The day when we could put you to the test and see everything you've worked for come full circle!"

"But it was more than that. You see, in the end, knowledge can only take you halfway. You can know everything about a _species_ of pokemon, but if you can't bond with the individual, it amounts to nothing more than facts. To form a bond and to use that bond to win battles and grow as trainer and pokemon: _that's_ the most important thing, and that's what we had to make sure you understood in action, as well as theory."

"Which is exactly what you did!" Mom practically squealed. "You literally fought alongside your pokemon—which was dangerous and unexpected and we'll be taking you to the doctor _right_ after we leave. But I can't say how proud I am of you for protecting your pokemon with all your heart! You _moved_ with him and _worked_ with him like a single fighting force! And he did the same for you! It was simply beautiful to see such a strong bond formed in such a short time.

"You see, Cicero! You went from the very bottom of the worst possible scenario and rose to the top because you _loved your pokemon_! Even after the battle looked lost, he fought his very best for you! To fight for each other and protect each other. _That_ is what it means to train pokemon! And now that we've seen how deeply you understand this, you can finally start your own journey!"

I simply looked from face to face, silent and gaping before their proud, eager expressions. My mind was still back in the beginning of their explanations. The idea that _they'd spent over eighteen years preparing for this_ was still sinking in. Even for them, this was ridiculous and extreme and difficult to accept.

"Then…But who…?" my hand flopped in Maitland's direction.

"Oh, he's an old friend of mine!" Dad said, grinning at the man in the pressed, pale suit. "Works for me at the company, actually. He did almost as much work on this whole plan as your mother and I."

Maitland, after checking to make sure Soterios was doing alright, got to his feet, smiling politely, and extended his hand. "My name is Vilmos Maitland," he said, not bothered by the fact that I didn't shake his hand. "Sorry I was so hard on you but, as you heard, I was told to make it as realistic as possible. I swear, I wouldn't have let Soterios _actually_ kill you, but, uh, when you…retaliated, he got a little out of control."

At his side, Soterios raised his head and glared at me. Apparently, acting or not, he hadn't forgiven me for disrespecting Vilmos.

"I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances for the first time, but…I'm glad to meet you, Cicero. I've been hearing about you for such a long time, seen a few pictures, but…You've grown into quite a beautiful young lady, and such a skilled trainer, considering you're so fresh in the field." And he looked at me with a smile so warm and genial that I only became more dumbfounded—How could he and the executive be the same person? How could the man with chilling authority and burning eyes exist as a series of black-inked letters?

"You…You're quite the actor," I mumbled dumbly, not really sure what else to say, and everyone laughed.

"You understand now, Cicero?" Dad asked, gently, clearly aware and prepared for my shell-shocked state.

I glanced to him, nodding slowly. "Yes, I'm…beginning to…" A thought occurred to me, then, and suddenly, I was avid. "Wait, so where does that leave Reuniclus? Did everything I saw in his head…?" I trailed off.

Regret flashed across my parents' faces, and they both nodded. I was suddenly filled with horror, and I felt it touch my expression.

"He was the only one," Mom assured me quickly, "and we hated to do it, even to him. The rest of the pokemon were like Vilmos: actors. But that Reuniclus was special. He was raised specifically to be used by you when the day arrived. And, like you said, you're his trainer now. He's been yours since before you were born." She smiled.

I couldn't smile back; I was still too stunned. Instead, I looked towards Reuniclus, who had remained as he was. His eyes were glazed and his expression blank.

The hardest thing to believe about this 'test' was manifested in him: everything we'd done, everything we'd felt, had been _real_. My fear had been real; my pain was real; my scars were real. His tears were real. I knew I'd be fine; to be honest, my parents had always been strange in the mind, and it would eventually become easy to believe that my first day as a high school graduate had been spent fighting an imaginary organization of their own design. But Reuniclus…What could I say? That his whole existence was part of a play? How would he take that? How would he live now that the exercise was complete?

Before I knew it, I was walking towards him. I didn't know what I would say, but I couldn't stand seeing him so…blank. When I reached him, I took his hands, and his memories of the battle trickled into my head; I watched Soterios fly into the wall again and again and again; saw his face contort in agony again and again and again; saw the real terror in Maitland's eyes as he was raised, helpless, to the ceiling.

"Reuniclus," I whispered, firmly but gently, my eyes on his.

I watched the light come back into them as he left the constant stream of painful thoughts and returned to reality.

"_I wanted to kill them,"_ his voice cracked. "_They hurt you, and I wanted them dead and I couldn't…If I hadn't heard you; if you hadn't stopped me…!"_

"Shhh." I stroked his arm, smiling softly as I looked into his eyes. "You were just trying to protect me. It's alright, Reuniclus. They're both fine now; no one's hurt. Everything's okay."

His flat line of a lip started to tremble, and then, though he was silent outwardly, his mind filled with a scream of misery and pain and great rivers of tears rolled down his face.

"_Don't make me battle anymore, Cici!_" he shouted. "_Please! I don't want anyone to get hurt! I don't wanna hurt anyone anymore!_"

I pulled him towards me, stroking his head. I was shaking in the wake of his raw emotion pounding directly into my brain, and I realized the truth didn't matter. Regardless of the farce surrounding his experiences, it was his life, and it had been real; to say it was little more than an act would, at best, confuse him and, at worst, rub salt in his already gaping wound. And so I remained, letting his tears soak my shirt while I held him. The rough skin on his burn slid lightly against my arm.

A hand touched my shoulder. I kept my arms around Reuniclus, our focuses unmoving.

"The cleaning crew's on their way in, sweetie," Mom breathed in my ear, and when I didn't move, she gave my shoulder a squeeze. "He's always been yours, Cicero. He'll be okay now that he has you. Let's get both of you cleaned up now. Okay?"

I glanced up into my mother's eyes; I could see the unvoiced apology swimming in them.

I wanted to ask if _this_ had been part of her plan. I wanted to ask if breaking the heart of a young, innocent pokemon was part of the test criteria, but I said nothing. Deep down, I knew it wasn't. She and Dad had never meant to scar him so; indeed, how _could_ they have known? But with his tears still hot on my skin, I couldn't trust myself to not voice every angry, bitter thought that was swirling along with Reuniclus' sadness.

I just nodded, barely breathed a request for his pokeball, which I moved my hand to accept, and assured her we'd be there in a moment.

And she left.

I waited, silently, for his tears to dry and his mind to calm, fingers tracing a single line along the top of his slick, jelly-textured head.

When at last he'd appeared to have cried all he could, and his voice faded from my mind, I pulled away to meet his eyes.

"You remember, Reuniclus, that I promised I'd get you out of here, right?"

He nodded, exhausted from his outpouring of emotion.

"Well, we can finally leave now." I lifted up his pokeball. "Just…rest a little bit in here for me, alright? And after you've done that, I'll be able to keep my promise."

Despite his sadness, I saw his face visibly brighten. And when I pressed the button, releasing the red beam of light, he was smiling, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

For a long time, I just stared at the pokeball in my hand.

Then, I turned to meet my parents.


	7. Epilogue

My parents wanted to take me to the doctor immediately for my burn, but as soon as I left the facility, I only wanted to shower and sleep. Eventually, they agreed to the first, and while I reveled in the warm, comforting water washing this whole hellish day off of me, I inspected my stomach myself. At some point, I assumed it had been red and inflamed, but that had faded, and my skin looked almost as though I'd never been hurt at all. The only evidence that remained was a few blisters, and those would eventually go away.

There would, my doctor assured me, always be scars on my shoulder. I was actually very lucky that was all I was left with after a wild pokemon attack, he said, as they can often get very vicious. He could give me something to make them less prominent, if I wanted. I politely declined, laughing while I told them that scars looked cool anyway, and they didn't look that bad in the first place. I'd stared at them while he was at his desk, looking for an ointment he'd recommended for burn treatment. I wonder still what kind of look crossed my face as I gazed at the permanent knots ringing my shoulder, eternal breaks in the flow of pale skin.

And then I slept. I threw away the clothes I'd worn—there was no saving them—threw on pajamas and I slept. For the rest of the day, I slept; almost all night, I slept, waking only once to eat the most delicious meal I'd ever had. My dreams were filled with dancing colors and fields of flowers and rivers of blood and wicked laughter, but I never woke from them. Even when I was being slowly consumed by a Serperior with eyes like kaleidoscopes while a child's voice screamed in the background, I remained firmly asleep. When I finally awakened, I was shaking and sweating and my shoulder was burning, making tears sting my eyes.

On the day following my sleeping binge, I faced the worried phone calls of my friends. Apparently, when I hadn't shown up in Striaton, they came back to my house to investigate. Mom and Dad, however, appeared to have thought of that scenario, as I was surprised to learn that Professor Juniper had told them about the celebratory vacation my parents and I had left for almost immediately after I'd gotten home. Working with that, I told them something similar to what I'd told the doctor, saying our little excursion had been cut short due to my being a klutz and disturbing a Simipour napping in a tree, who bit me in retaliation. I uttered the usual litany of "Yes, I'm fine"s and "No, I won't be missing graduation"s so many times into the receiver I lost count. When a few of them came over with 'get-well-soon gifts, this changed to "oh, it's not that bad" and "I know, doesn't it look awesome?". Only now that I saw them did I realize that I'd feared never seeing them again, even if I hadn't realized it. If they noticed my increased levels of affection or the sheer volume of my joy, they said nothing—probably chalking it all up to painkillers. After all, as they all told me, "that looks like it hurt!".

Reuniclus stayed in his pokeball.

Mom had taken him to the pokemon center while Dad and I were at the doctor's office. As I went almost immediately from sleep to meeting my friends, I hadn't had a chance to see him, but he was always on my mind. Even when I was laughing and belatedly rejoicing in our status as graduates, part of me was cold and quiet, hearing forever the sound of his desperate cries in the cafeteria.

It wasn't until after everyone had left, right around twilight, that I felt that part of me begin to take over. With new, grave fervor I wondered about him.

I went up to my room and found his pokeball, tipped on its side on my desk, motionless in the dwindling light. It was light in my hand; who would've guessed it was filled with life?

A knock came on the door. "Cicero?"

"Yeah, Dad."

I'd left the lights off, and the glow of the hallway cut into my room and threw his shadow over the floor. There was a gentle smile on his face, painted vaguely red-orange in sunset. "Are you doing alright?"

"…More or less…" I smiled exhaustedly.

He walked through the near-darkness and put arms around me. "If your mother and I had thought you couldn't take this, we wouldn't have put you through it."

"I know," I nodded, my head on his shoulder. And I did. Not once did I doubt their love of me or the faith I had in myself to get past a—for all intents and purposes—fake near-death experience. "It's not me I'm worried about, Dad."

There was a pause, and I heard his lungs moving in his chest as he sighed, long and low. "I can't tell you what to do now, Cicero. You're the only one who knows the real story of that pokemon, and you're the only one he's ever felt close to. You and he will have to decide what to do next on your own."

He pushed me back so that our eyes met. "That's how it'll be when you're on your journey. Mom and I will be there for you at home, and always ready to help when you need it. But, for the most part, it's going to be just you and your pokemon. You'll be all each other has. I wonder," he added, "if you'd be angry with your mother and me if I said that your worry was exactly what we hoped for."

I pondered this for a moment, and then shook my head. "I'm not sure…" I felt, on the one hand, that I should be. I could still hear the sound of Reuniclus crying, the cry of someone who's being ripped apart, and I knew that my parents were at the heart of it all.

But, that was just it: they were my _parents_. I could blame them all I wanted, knowing I was right to, but I didn't think I could hate them. I cared for them just as I cared for Reuniclus, and it was as if to hate _them_ was to choose _him_, which was something I couldn't do.

Dad, smiling, put a hand on my head and ruffled my hair, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "I believe in you, Cicero. I always have."

And then he left, leaving me to my thoughts in the dim light streaming through the window. I stared through the glass, gazing out at the forest that surrounded the town; watched the trees swaying gently back and forth in the breeze.

I smiled.

The evening air was warm, attesting to the slowly changing season, and it wrapped itself around me like a coat. I stared up at the sky as I stood, just outside my door, and took a deep breath of it, relishing the taste of spring. And then I began to walk.

Most of my childhood had been spent exploring the woods of Nuvema, and I now knew them like the back of my hand. I remembered, as I walked, a hot day in Unova when I'd sought relief in the shade beneath the thick canopy of the forest. I'd gone further in than ever before that day, feeling the cool, sweet relief of the high-noon darkness with all the delight a child could feel. In fact, I was actually a little perturbed at first when I'd found it: the large clearing filled with the sunlight, beating down on the world, that seemed to exist for no other reason than for my own discomfort. That was, until, I discovered a large apple tree at its center, branches heavy with fresh, delicious fruit. I'd spent the rest of the day beneath it, dozing and eating apples, and many days that followed.

I found it again, that night.

The tree was pink in the light of twilight, tiny petals plucked by the wind swirling around it. Memories of childhood rushed back to me on the breeze, and I smiled as my eyes fell upon it. It felt like a lifetime had passed since I'd seen this place, and it had only gotten more beautiful in the passing years.

Perfect.

I raised the pokeball up to my lips and whispered, "Reuniclus." Then, I threw it into the air.

From within the tiny silhouette, the red beam shot forth. It stopped in midair, not far from me, and then the familiar shape emerged.

I didn't say a word. Instead I watched Reuniclus' eyes fall on me, tired and curious. And then, his lips parted. The shimmering drops of ink shifted rapidly from me to the forest at my back. And then he whirled around to stare at the apple tree. I heard him gasp, watched him spin around to take in the whole of the clearing's beauty.

And then, he let out a loud, exuberant cry and rose high into the air.

I followed his ascent, watched the sky dance through his transparent body as he spun and dipped and shot through the air.

This was the best thing for him, I thought. There was no way he could come with me; not if my final destination was the pokemon league. I'd thought about it in those moments before sleep when the world stands still and the mind is all that can move, and had thought that there was no way I could leave him; no way he could live on his own…But I knew those were excuses.

The truth was that he was, when you got right down to it, my very first pokemon, and I didn't want to let him go. I wanted to show him my world and get to know him. I wanted to travel with him and watch the stars with him and swim with him in the ocean.

But, more than anything, I wanted him to be happy.

I'd seen firsthand what I knew would do that. And now I was giving it to him. So I shouldn't be sad, right?

But there they were. Tears blurred my vision and trailed down my cheeks. I ceased to be able to see him as he soared through the sky, and this only made them worse; the world began to blur together into a placid, pastel-colored pond. A lump lodged itself in my throat and I couldn't swallow it down. My chest began to ache.

And yet, I could feel myself smiling, because, beneath my sadness I _was_ happy. I was happy that he was free and I was happy that I would never be the same. My parents had been right. Thanks to everything we'd been through, I understood just what it meant to become a pokemon trainer. I'd known firsthand the desire to sacrifice my own safety for the sake of my pokemon, and I'd known that desire to be returned in love and loyalty. Reuniclus, though his youth may hinder the full gravity of it, must have realized this, too, and I took additional joy in knowing that I had touched his life the same way he'd touched mine.

I don't know how long I watched him, but finally, he slowly lowered himself back down before me. His eyes were moist and his smile was broad.

"_Cici!"_ he cried, and flung his arms around me.

I clutched him with all my might, cementing the feel of his cold, slippery skin into my memory.

"_It's beautiful, Cici! It's beautiful! I've never seen anything like it before! There are trees everywhere and the air is so nice and the sky! The sky's so pretty!_

_ "I'm so happy, Cici!"_

"I am, too, Reuniclus," I said, my throat catching on the last word.

Then, he pulled back, leaving his arms on my shoulders, and we looked into each-other's eyes.

I could see the strength in them I'd always known to be there, and there was something else, too…Knowledge. I think he knew, in that moment, exactly what was going on. I think he could see in my eyes—or even in my jumbled thoughts—that I wasn't going to be putting him back into the pokeball; he may have even known this was coming when he entered it in the cafeteria. He remembered my promise as I did, and knew what it meant that I was fulfilling it now.

Both of us had tears on our cheeks.

"I owe you my life," I whispered. "I'm going to miss you, Reuniclus. Every day, with everything I have, I'm going to miss you."

"_I'll find you again,_" he thought. "_I'm free to find you again whenever I want now."_

I could only nod.

We stayed that way for an eternity, saying nothing while the warm, spring breeze caressed our skin.

And then he was floating backwards and upwards, into the air, his hands sliding down my arms and pulling them gently up with him. I watched his eyes sparkle in the twilight, fixed firmly on mine.

"_I'll never forget you, Cici."_

My hands fell from his. He rose into the air just as the world gave way to darkness.

And he was gone.

I stared after him for a long while, until my eyes were dry and the warmth turned to chill and I was shivering.

Not once did I stop smiling.

I'd told him that I owed him my life, and this had been true. Were it not for him, I wouldn't have known and experienced what I did. Were it not for him, I wouldn't understand what I did about what awaited me on my journey.

Because of him, I could feel no doubt about my success. Because of him, I knew I could go all the way to the top. I could start from the bottom, a rookie from Nuvema, and could finish as the champion.

And very soon, I thought, feeling the scars on my shoulders—my very first traveling companions—I'd be on my way. Very soon, I'd be fulfilling my dream, just as I'd fulfilled his.


End file.
